The Twin Test

I was teaching them about the natural environment here and why it’s so important to protect the land as well as the animals from being destroyed by human ignorance and man’s greedy actions.

Pippa’s voice filled his head loud and clear. She may not have been referring to him at the time, but according to her worldview, he was selling his soul by working for an oil company.

And wasn’t he? He’d abandoned his research on earthquake patterns and prediction. He’d forgotten the Dax who’d become a seismologist because he desperately wanted to figure out how to save people. The Dax who believed in climate change, and wanted to preserve the land, sea and sky and all their inhabitants.

Maybe he wasn’t destroying any of that directly with this new job, but he was guilty of aiding and abetting. He was using his skills and expertise in reflection seismology to analyze and develop subterranean maps that would in turn tell them where to drill...or even frack if they chose to.

One of these days, he’d have to explain it all to Ivy and Fern and hope that they’d forgive him. He was doing this for them. And as far as Pippa was concerned, she knew nothing about him. She had no idea what it was like to raise the twins alone. He was doing what he had to do. Besides, she drove a jeep, and it sure didn’t run on air. Who was she to judge? And why did he care what she thought of him anyway? Why did he suddenly feel guilty?

It didn’t matter. She was responsible enough to watch the girls until he found someone else. That’s all he needed. So long as she kept the girls safe for the next few weeks, Pippa Harper could think whatever she wanted of him.

* * *

PIPPA PROPPED HER feet up on the rattan ottoman, threw a light shawl over her knees and leaned back in the rocker that sat on the front porch of the Busara house.

The full moon cast shadows on the opposite side of the camp, where the old framed tents she’d grown up in still stood, decades later.

Her parents, and Kamau—the other vet who ran Busara—and his wife, Niara—Pippa’s mother’s best friend—hadn’t built the house until Pippa was five years old...right after her father had discovered she existed.

The fact that she still lived here wasn’t all that weird. It wasn’t like there were apartment complexes every block so she could move out—not that she wanted to move away. The year and a half she’d spent traveling had been enough to stretch her wings and make her miss home. At least that’s what she kept telling herself. Maybe if she ever made enough money to invest in herself, she’d be able to build her own cottage nearby. It seemed like a waste of resources, though. There was room here. And whatever money she made, she preferred to donate to her education project or funding wildlife projects, like at Busara.

A lamp from inside cast just enough light through the nearby window for her to read the book in her lap. The house was quiet; everyone was asleep. The rise and fall of cricket and cicada song lulled her into a dreamy, relaxed zone, perfect for reading. Dark. Breezy. Alone. Perfect for a romantic mystery.

She opened her book and vanished into the story. It sucked her in. Page after page. The thrill of not knowing...like that first spark of attraction or first crush. Dax’s face flashed in her head and she rubbed at her eyes. Where had that come from? She glanced at the page number and paragraph she’d just read. Nope. She wasn’t falling asleep. She’d read that. It had just been an exhausting day, that’s all. She shifted in her chair and kept reading.

This was it. The moment of truth. The whodunit. A wild dog howled in the distance, and the brush beyond the elephant pens rustled. Her pulse raced, and she flipped the page.

“What in the name of thunder? No!” she growled.

She double-checked the page numbers. It wasn’t a typo. The page was gone. The page with the whodunit. She stretched the binding apart just enough to spy the jagged remains of a torn page. White powder shook onto her lap. White powder. Sugar. A brown smudge stained the following page. Chocolate.

“They. Did. Not!”

The twins had torn out the page. Who did that? Who damaged books like that? A rare copy, no less.

“Those freaking girls. I’m going to—” She grabbed fistfuls of her hair and braced her head against her knees. “I swear they better not have thrown it away.”

The screen door to the house creaked open and her mother appeared, half-awake.

“Pippa, what in the world is going on? You’re going to wake up the entire camp.”

“I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t realize my voice had carried. It’s just these twins I’ve agreed to look after. This whole thing might not be worth it. I’m pretty sure their dad knew they were a handful. He lied to me by omission. Alim tried to warn me. I should have listened.”

Her mom sat on the corner of the ottoman and put her hand on Pippa’s knee.

“Since when do you back down from a challenge? You seemed so excited about this at dinner and you haven’t seen them since you left Tabara. Why the change of heart in just a few hours?”

“They tore my book.”

“Ooh, that’s bad. Girls their age should know better. You ought to call in first thing and quit.”

“Just like that?” Pippa sighed and slumped back when Anna smiled. “Am I ever going to outgrow your reverse psychology tactics?”

“Nope. Because we parents know our kids so well.”

Just how well does Dax know his daughters?

“I guess. I just never met a child who would tear up a book. They’re evil little monsters.”

“A harsh label for girls so young. I love you to pieces, Pippa, but I’m pretty sure a few of my gray hairs were caused by you.” She gave Pippa’s hand a loving squeeze.

“Just a few?” Pippa tipped her head up and stared at the moon. “I’m sorry I woke you. Go back to bed. I’ll be in in a sec.”

“Okay. But just remember, Pip, you’re the one in control. This can’t be that different from all the tours you’ve given at camps and lodges in the past. You’re the leader. You make the rules and set the boundaries. Maybe these girls need some. Maybe they need someone like you.”

“You’re right. I’m the one in control.”

Her mom nodded as she disappeared through the screen door. Pippa got up, wrapped the shawl around her shoulders and filled her lungs with night air.

You have them at your mercy, Pippa. Don’t lose it. Use it.

Civil war history and battle strategies, huh?

She had a few battle plans herself.

And if Dax didn’t like her methods, he was on his own.

CHAPTER FOUR (#u8597c604-58de-554f-9a93-09439bdc11d9)

DAX CLOSED HIS laptop and hurried to answer the knock on the bungalow door. She was ten minutes late. Even five wouldn’t have been acceptable, but he was desperate and his ride was waiting. And he’d been hoping for a few minutes to go over the schedule and to set things straight...like not being late and not letting Ivy and Fern out of her sight.

“Girls, I’m getting ready to leave. Come out here.” He cleared the ten feet to the door in three strides, then opened it and stood aside.

Miss Harper smiled brightly and marched right past him. He glanced at his watch, just as she turned around.

“Sorry I’m late, but I’m all set to go now,” she said. She was beaming, as if taking care of his daughters was the most exciting thing in her life. Her green eyes sparkled the way Ivy and Fern’s did when they were having fun. They lit the way Sandy’s used to, simply because she loved life and lived each moment like a celebration, even before the diagnosis. He loved his daughters, but their idea of fun was probably not the kind Pippa would appreciate. Unless she was that bored, living out here in the middle of nowhere. “Where are they? I hope they have comfortable shoes. I have the best day planned,” she said, tipping her head at him expectantly.

She had planned the day? No, no, no. He had the day planned. Just get back in control.

Dax held up a finger, but she spoke before he could get a word out.

“You’re standing very still for someone who needs to be somewhere. I’ve got this. You’re already late, so go on. You can leave now.”

He was late? Well, yes, he was, but only because she had been late first. Was getting Pippa to be on time and follow a schedule going to be that much work? His temples throbbed. He really did need to go. He tugged at his collar and motioned toward the girls’ room.

“They’re in there. Ivy, Fern! Come on out here a second.” He turned back to Pippa. “About the time—”

“Oh. Zebras,” she said with a brush of her hand. She helped herself to the view outside the window. Was that supposed to be an expression...like “Oh whatever”? She was so not going to dismiss him that easily.